Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Would you have preferred a text?” she shoots back, the smallest flicker of her usual sarcasm cutting through the tension.
That makes me smile, despite everything. “No. This was on brand.”
I brush a strand of hair from her face, my gloved hand awkward but careful. “You’re so fucking lucky I didn’t have a heart attack in the middle of the ice.”
The crowd around us is growing exponentially.
Someone yells, “Get a room!” and I shoot them a glare, ready to snap back, but someone beats me to it.
“Go fuck yourself, she’s pregnant!” a voice shouts from somewhere behind me, sharp and unapologetic. The comment earns a ripple of laughter and cheers from the gathering fans, and I can’t help the stunned snort that escapes me.
I grab the sign. “She’s pregnant!”
Hold it up over my head, much to the delight of the fans.
“My girlfriend is pregnant!”
The arena erupts.
Applause, whistles, and chants of "Gio! Gio! Gio!" ring out from the growing crowd. People are standing on the seats now, desperate for a decent view of us—clapping and stomping their feet like I’ve just scored the game-winning goal in overtime.
Phones are out everywhere, capturing this moment that’s bound to go viral in minutes.
Everyone is so bloody stoked.
Austin covers her face with both hands, shoulders shaking—not from tears, but from embarrassed laughter.
“Oh my God,” she groans through her fingers. “This is insane.”
I turn to the fans and wave the sign one last time for good measure. The cheers grow louder, a deafening roar that reverberates through the arena.
Ha ha. “Get used to it.”
She’s wearing a jersey over a blue hoodie, all of it three sizes too big on her…but that doesn’t stop my eyes from trailing downward, to her stomach.
It’s instinctive, automatic, like my brain is trying to catch up with the reality of what’s happening. There’s no bump yet—of course, there isn’t—but knowing what’s coming… it’s enough to send another shock wave through my chest.
My kid is in there.
My kid.
Holy shit.
Austin peeks through her fingers, catching the direction of my gaze. Her embarrassed laughter softens, her hands falling to her sides.
“What?” she asks, her voice quieter now, uncertain.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head and meeting her eyes again. “Just a lot to take in.”
Her lips curve into a small, understanding smile. “Tell me about it.”
Yeah—I’m sure she was as surprised as I am.
Maybe even more so.
The crowd is still buzzing around us, voices blending into a dull roar, but I don’t hear them anymore. All I can focus on is her—on the way her hands fidget with the hem of her hoodie, on the way she’s looking at me like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It doesn’t.
I step closer, leaning down until our foreheads almost touch.
“We’ve got this,” I tell her, my voice steady despite the chaos swirling around us. “Okay?”
Her eyes search mine, and after a moment, she nods. “Okay.”
My hands move to her face and I cup her chin, tilting it up.
Press my lips against her lips…
Her hands grip the front of my jersey, holding me close as if the world might pull us apart. Her lips are soft and warm, and for a moment, everything—every doubt, every fear—melts away. It’s just her, just me, and the quiet promise in this kiss.
When I finally pull back, her eyes flutter open, her cheeks flushed and her breath shaky. “What was that for?” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the distant murmur of the crowd.
I grin, my forehead still resting against hers. “For being amazing,” I say. “And for being brave enough to do this tonight.” In this way.
Seriously.
Wow.
She has serious lady balls.
Behind us, Nova claps loudly, breaking the moment. “Finally!” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was starting to think you’d never kiss her.”
I ignore my sister.
Roll my eyes, stepping back just enough to lace my fingers with Austin’s. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Yes,” she says, exasperated but smiling now. “Please.”
I slide my arm around her waist, and before she can utter a single word of protest, I sweep her off her feet—literally. In full hockey gear, skates scraping against the concrete, I lift her like she weighs nothing, cradling her against my chest.
Austin lets out a startled squeak, her hands flying to grip my shoulders as I hold her securely.
“Gio!” she shrieks, her voice half-laugh, half-protest. “What are you doing? You’re going to drop me!”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve seen my arms,” I boast as I shift her closer, holding her tightly against me. “This is the safest place you could be.”
What am I doing?!
“Put me down!” She laughs. “I can walk.”
“Hell no. I’m carrying my pregnant girlfriend to the car!” I holler to everyone as my skates scrape against the concrete steps, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve had enough excitement for one night. Let me take care of you.”